


Objects in Mirror May be Older Than They Appear

by LordValeryMimes



Category: Red Dwarf
Genre: Antagonism, Established Relationship, Ficlet, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-14
Updated: 2015-08-14
Packaged: 2018-04-14 17:11:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4572810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LordValeryMimes/pseuds/LordValeryMimes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometime during series X, Rimmer stumbles across a <a href="http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/lordvalerymimes/69978112/6252/6252_original.jpg">very old photo</a> of Lister.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Objects in Mirror May be Older Than They Appear

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Rob Grant and Doug Naylor for creating these characters so I could make them get up to all sorts of smeg together.

“I can’t believe that I let you talk me into this,” Rimmer grimaced as he shifted another armload of unidentifiable detritus from Lister’s foot locker to the table in the center of the bunkroom.

“You’re the one always complaining about what a state the place is in,” Lister commented offhandedly as he pawed through the fresh pile of junk that Rimmer had deposited. “You know I’ll never get it sorted otherwise.”

Rimmer wrinkled up his nose as he reached back into Lister’s locker, “I’m smelling smells that were never meant to be smelled by human nostrils.” He pulled a crumpled t-shirt from the pile, sniffed at it gingerly and recoiled in horror. “It’s like the entire universe’s population of GELFs decided to use your locker as a litter tray.” He threw the shirt at Lister who caught it, and sniffed at it curiously.

“What d’you mean? That’s that fancy cologne I bought from the Titan Zoo when I was trying to get Kochanski to go out with me. The bottle must’ve spilled.”

“You bought cologne from a zoo?” Rimmer asked, incredulous before adding, “What am I saying? Of course you would buy cologne from a zoo.”

“It was quality stuff, Rimmer. They said it was guaranteed to attract mates. Made from the musks of seven different kinds of predatory animals. It was called Sexy Beast.”

“And did it work?”

“Kochanski told me that I smelled like the underside of a rhinoceros’s scrotal sack, and wouldn’t let me come near her until I’d taken four showers.”

“A rousing success indeed.” Rimmer rolled his eyes as he dropped some more junk in front of Lister. “I think that’s the last of it. There’s a bit of gunky sludge in the bottom, but I’m not touching that.” He pulled out a chair and sat himself next to Lister and clicked his tongue at the pile in front of him. “I don’t know how a man with such a minute pay packet, managed to amass such a large amount of useless garbage.”

“It’s not _all_ garbage, Rimmer.” Lister furrowed his brow as he sifted through the stack before pulling out a small metal object. “Check it out, a solid titanium lager can opener.”

“Lister, I’ve been watching you open cans of lager for years. Not once have I ever seen you use anything other than your fingers. Apart from that one night you were so drunk, you convinced yourself that you could do it with your ear.”  

“But I might need it someday. Just you wait, Rimmer. One day when I’m old, and feeble, and riddled by arthritis, I’ll go to open up a can of lager, and my poor swollen hands will thank my younger self, for thinking to buy this.” Lister hefted the can opener in his hand before pocketing it.

“You’re already more than halfway there, Listy.” Rimmer continued to study the pile with the intensity of an archaeologist poring over an unearthed tomb. A small leather-bound book was peeking out of the corner of the rubbish, and Rimmer extricated it carefully, doing his best to maintain the stack’s structural integrity. “What’s this?”

“What, that? Just an old album of snaps.”

“You actually have a proper photo album?” Rimmer hefted the book in his hands as he looked it over.

“Yeah, what? What’s wrong with having an album?”

“Why don’t you just keep them on a vid like everyone else in the civilized world?”

“I’ve got them on a vid too,” Lister stuck his tongue out at Rimmer as he flipped through a stack of novelty playing cards decorated with photos of androids made-up like pin-up girls. “I just like having the book. It’s nice having something you can actually hold in your hands.”

“I can think of plenty of other things I’d rather hold in my hands,” Rimmer smirked and glanced knowingly at Lister as he opened the book and began flipping idly through it. It was all of Lister’s favorite personal photos: his gran, his father’s dog Hannah, Jim Bexley-Speed looking down in disinterest at an ecstatically happy Lister. Rimmer turned the next page and his jaw dropped into his lap.

“Lister. How… how old are you here?”

“What?” Lister leaned over and craned his head to look at the photobook. “Oh smeg. I’d forgotten about that. Gran put that in there.”

“You look like a baby!”

“I think I was eighteen or nineteen, I can’t remember exactly.”

“I don’t believe you, you don’t look a day over twelve. And what on Io are you wearing?”

Lister shifted in his seat guiltily. “Yeah, that was after the sham-glam phase. I was trying to impress this posh bird. Didn’t work out in the end. I don’t even know why I kept the snap. I look like a total smeghead.”

“Posh bird? Oh my God." Rimmer's face became animated with mock-horror as he looked up at Lister. "This is the outfit you were wearing when you lost your virginity isn’t it? That’s why you’re dressed like you’re about to enter a golf tournament!”

“Rimmer, I told you I was at least eighteen when that was taken. Besides, I certainly wasn’t dressed for playing golf on _that_ day.”

Rimmer shook his head gravely from side to side. “Poor little Listy. Just look at you with those wide, innocent eyes. Clearly you’ve no idea that you’re going to be scraping sand from your various orifices over the next several days.”

“Oh give it a rest, Rimmer. I was not twelve when that photograph was taken.”

“Well you might as well be, Listy. I mean look at you. You’re a precious little cherub." Rimmer cocked his eyebrow as he looked up at Lister, his eyes bright with delight. "You wouldn’t look out of place fluttering around the columns of a cathedral in the vatican. You’re practically angelic.”

Lister scrunched his face up as he lunged for the photo-book, “Oh smeg off, Rimmer. You’re just winding me up.”

“I’m serious, Lister.” Rimmer replied as he held the book just out of Lister’s reach. “I think you look absolutely gorgeous, if a bit like jailbait.” He grinned up at Lister, his eyes shining.

“You’re mental, Rimmer.”

Rimmer glanced back down at the photograph and did a double-take. “Oh my smeg. Is that an _earring_ , Lister?”

“Oh knock it off, Rimmer. Like you never wore anything stupid when you were younger?” Lister went to snatch the book from Rimmer but the hologram held it protectively against his chest.

“You were so pretty, Listy.” Rimmer laughed as Lister tackled him around the middle and attempted to wrestle the book away. “No wonder you were fighting them off when you were still in short trousers.”

“I said. Knock. It. Off.” Lister grunted as he punctuated each word with a tug on the book, finally managing to pull it from Rimmer’s fingers. The hologram laughed as Lister turned and angrily stuffed the book underneath his bunk mattress.

“Is that where you hide your wings and halo too, Listy?”

Lister turned angrily, smacking his hip into the side of the table. A small shower of junk rained down onto the bunkroom floor. “Rimmer, I don’t want to hear one more word ok? Now would you just forget the stupid, smegging photograph and help me finish going through this stuff, ok? Please?” Lister’s face was flushed with embarrassment.

“All right, Lister.” Rimmer held up his hands in surrender, but his expression quivered as he desperately tried to suppress his giggles. He straightened his back and laced his fingers together on the table as Lister gathered up the things that had spilled onto the floor.

“You know, Listy? I can’t **praise** you enough for what you’re doing here.”

"Look are you going to help me, or are you just going to keep smegging about?"

"All right, Lister. All right. You don't need to keep **harp** ing on about it."

Lister glared at Rimmer, and the hologram dropped his gaze as he hid a snigger behind his fist.

"Ha, smegging ha, Rimmer."

"I'm serious, Lister. I can’t think of anything I’d rather do more than to help you tidy up your things. It's absolute **heaven**."

"That’s it, I’m done. You can finish tidying up by yourself.” Lister knocked a fresh pile of rubbish to the floor as he pushed his way out the bunkroom door.

Rimmer clasped his hands under his chin and sighed, “He’s an absolute **saint** to put up with me.” His giggles only stopped when the solid titanium can opener whizzed through the doorway and pranged him in the back of the head.

"See?" Lister's voice echoed from the corridor. "I knew that thing would come in handy."


End file.
